Book of Shadows II:Sanctuary
by GlitterDemon
Summary: Three hundred and twenty years have passed, since the coven sank in the dark. Invisible demons. A secret hunt. Evil spirits unleashed, will not obey their master.
1. Chapter I

--Book of Shadows, Part Two: Sanctuary  
  
Chapter I  
  
The man ran blindly through the alley. His breathing was labored, his legs were straining to carry him forward. He had to keep moving. He didn't know what was chasing him, or why, but he couldn't let it catch him. The way out was blocked by a high, chain-link fence. The man glanced nervously over his shoulder, and wiped the cold sweat off his brow. He scrambled up the fence as quickly as possible, ignoring the barbed wire which tore his clothing and cut his hands to shreds. He couldn't let the pain stop him. He couldn't stop.  
  
He jumped to the ground and kept running, still glancing back with eyes widened by fear. Ahead he saw a church sitting in the middle of the high rises. It was old, the windows broken and boarded up. The roof had collapsed in places, leaving puddles on the dusty floor. The man ran inside, hoping he would be safe here. He wove between the rotting pews which were scattered around haphazardly, approaching the front of the church.  
  
He stopped before the altar. Towering high above him was a stained glass window, the only one still intact. He stared up at it in awe, marveling at the brilliant colors which depicted the Virgin Mary, a golden halo crowning her veiled head, cradling the baby Jesus in her arms.  
  
Then it found him. As his screams echoed through the stagnant night air, a man sat in a café, sipped his tea, and smiled.  
  
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Robin awoke to the shrill ringing of her phone. She switched on the lights which hung on the wall behind her bed, and fumbled around under the covers for the device.  
  
"Hello?" She answered sleepily.  
  
"Robin, meet me at headquarters." It was Amon. Before Robin could think to ask him why he'd called, a loud click told her Amon had hung up. Holding his a resigned sigh, she slowly forced herself to get out of bed.  
  
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Robin walked into the STN-J office, slightly more disheveled in appearance than usual. To her surprise, the only other person there besides Michael was Amon. The two of them were looking at something on Michael's computer and talking quietly. They stopped as Amon noticed her presence. He straightened and walked briskly toward her. Robin expected him to stop and explain why he had called her in at three in the morning, but he walked right past her. Stunned by his cold behavior, Robin turned and watched as he stepped into the elevator.  
  
"Are you coming?" He asked curtly, his arms crossed over his chest, one eyebrow raised expectantly. Robin glanced back at Michael, then hurried to join Amon.  
  
"Where are we going?" She asked as they began to descend.  
  
"We have a new case," Amon said, his eyes still pointed forward. "There was a murder which showed evidence of witchcraft. The police have turned the investigation over to us."  
  
"Where are Sakaki and Karasuma?"  
  
"There is no need to call them in. We're just inspecting the site."  
  
The elevator came to a stop as they reached the underground garage. Amon led the way to his car, unlocking the doors and climbing into the driver's seat. Robin stood there hesitantly, not sure if she should sit in the front or the back. Amon eyed her curiously, then reached over and opened the front door, staring up at her impatiently.  
  
"What are you doing? Hurry up and get in." he scowled.  
  
"Right," Robin replied, sliding into the front seat. "sorry." Amon said nothing, and the two remained silent as he sped off. 


	2. Chapter II

--Book of Shadows: Sanctuary-  
  
Chapter II  
  
"Witchcraft does not operate from Human Malice alone." – Malleus Maleficarum  
  
The church was not what Robin had expected. It was nestled between several high rise apartment, buildings, it's faded white steeple a little lopsided, and ancient place forgotten by time. Squad cars surrounded the dilapidated building, but the uniformed officers milling around seemed ready and eager to leave.  
  
As she and Amon approached, one man broke away form the group and came over to meet them.  
  
"I'm Officer Miyazaki." He said, inclining his head politely. "You must be with the STN." Both Robin and Amon nodded slightly in reply. The officer eyes Amon curiously, the turned to survey the crime scene.  
  
"It's a pretty bad one," he commented. "Perhaps the young lady had best wait..." his voice trailed off as Amon and Robin filed past him, ducking under the yellow police tape and heading toward the church. As they neared the entrance, one young officer came stumbling out, running for a nearby garbage can. Robin averted her eyes as sound of retching reached her hears. Just what was inside that church?  
  
Amon entered first, pausing just inside the doorway, blocking Robin's view. She attempted to peer over his shoulder, partly to see what he was looking at, and to see the expression his face.  
  
"Robin, perhaps you should wait outside," Amon said stoically, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. Robin frowned and glared up at him angrily, surprising Amon with her sudden display of defiance.  
  
"I'll be fine," she replied, an edge in her voice that clashed with her usual soft tone. Amon quirked an eyebrow at her, then stepped aside, allowing her to pass in front of him. Robin did so, taking a few brisk steps forward, before stopping in her tracks.  
  
The entire front of the church was covered in. . .blood. The floor, the altar, the beautiful stained-glass window, all were splattered with blood, bright red and glistening in the dark. Robin felt her mouth open in shock and horror. What had happened here? Amon had said there was a murder, but she couldn't see a body.  
  
It was then that she noticed them. Scattered around the floor were several small, white pieces of cloth. She looked down and noticed one directly at her feet. She bent down to examine it, driven back by the pungent, metallic scent of blood that came from it. Amon stepped forward, as if to stop her, but Robin was already prodding the cloth gently with one outstretched finger. She drew it back immediately as the cloth became soaked with blood, the small stain quickly spreading over the material.  
  
Robin stood up quickly, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. She covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes darting wildly around the room. These covered things. . .they were the body. . .or what was left of it. . .and she had. . .  
  
Amon stood silently in the aisle as Robin darted past him and out of the church.  
  
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Robin sat at the counter of Harry's bar, staring sullenly into the cup of chammomile tea he had given her. He had listened intently to her as she had recounted the events of the early morning, then encouraged her to drink the soothing brew. But right now, Robin didn't feel much like eating anything.  
  
She had made a point of insisting to Amon that she could handle whatever was inside that church. But she hadn't been expecting such. . .violence. Such carnage. And in a house of God, no less. She had seen crime scenes before, they were a regular part of witch hunts, and been around her share of dead bodies. But the victims had never been in pieces before. Their blood had never been splashed on the walls like a twisted child's finger painting.  
  
Robin buried her head in her arms. She felt so embarrassed, so immature, acting in such a way, and in front of Amon. He already thought poorly of her, and this wouldn't do anything to better his opinion.  
  
Her situation wasn't helped by the fact that at that moment, Amon joined her at the counter. She immediately raised her head, though she continued staring into her teacup, trying to hide the sudden heat that flooded into her face at his presence. Master walked over and smiled and the Hunter, who inclined his head in greeting. Master placed a cup of espresso on the table in front of the man, then walked back to the far end of the bar.  
  
"Amon, I didn't know you liked espresso." Robin commented without thinking. She mentally cursed herself for speaking to him, when she'd been trying to avoid doing so. Amon glanced at her coolly, then turned back to his coffee.  
  
"I don't mind it." He replied nonchalantly.  
  
"Did you ever live in Italy?" Robin asked hesitantly. She knew Amon didn't appreciate being prodded for personal information, but she never seemed to be able to help herself.  
  
"Yes." Amon answered curtly after a long pause. He set the empty cup on the table a little harder than was necessary, indicating to Robin that the conversation was over. The two continued to sit there in silence, Robin occasionally taking a sip of her tea. She was surprised to find it's warm, mild taste really did settle her nerves a little, and she began to feel more relaxed.  
  
Amon suddenly rose to leave, just as quickly as he had appeared. Before he had gotten out of earshot, Robin turned to him.  
  
"Amon."  
  
He paused, prepared to listen, but didn't turn back around. Robin mustered her courage, and spoke.  
  
"I apologize, for earlier. . .at the church."  
  
Amon slowly turned to face her, looking at the top of her golden- chestnut hair as she lowered her head ashamedly. She couldn't see his face, or she would have noticed the sudden softening of his stony jaw, and the almost gentle expression that warmed his stormy gray eyes. The look vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, but not before Master had a chance to smile knowingly and continue cleaning glasses.  
  
"You have nothing to be sorry for," Amon said quietly, looking down at her, his face once again a mask as her brilliant green eyes met his. "Your reaction was natural, instinctive. The police officers were behaving no differently. You saw that."  
  
Robin recalled the anxious pacing of the men, and that as soon as Amon had left the church, they had all practically jumped into their cars. When she realized this, her reaction to the sight of the crime scene didn't seem so bad. She looked up at Amon to thank him for allaying her discomfiture, but he was already gone.  
  
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A/n: Thanks to those of you who have reviewed so far, and everyone who reviewed the first book of this story, which motivated me to write a sequel. Just letting everyone know, we're getting a new computer, so I don't know when I'll be able to update next. 


	3. Chapter III

--Book of Shadows: Sanctuary--  
  
Chapter III  
  
"If anyone sacrifices a human being to the Devil, and offers sacrifice to demons as is the custom of the pagans; let him be put to death." –St. Augustine  
  
Robin slitted one eye open, rolling over in bed away from the bright sunlight that flooded into her room. She slowly propped herself up on her elbows, staring at the alarm clock next to her bed.  
  
"Overslept again," she murmured to herself, slipping out from underneath the covers and sliding into a bathrobe to cover her nudity. She padded into the small bathroom, telling herself she would clean it again as she washed her face in the sink.  
  
As she dressed, she mulled over what had happened earlier that day. At least she had a good reason for sleeping in. After all, Amon had woken her long before sunrise, then dragged her to a crime scene, with no explanation as to why. Why her? She wasn't that experienced in the field, and he more than anyone else distrusted her Craft. Wouldn't Karasuma, with her psychometric powers, have been a better choice? She was practically his partner anyway. He treated her more like one. . .  
  
Robin banished the sudden jealousy from her mind, then finished tying up her hair. How could she have thought such a thing? Karasuma was a well- trained Hunter, an S-Class, she had no right to be angry, just because Amon decided not to take her out on cases.  
  
Which left her back to where she had started. Why had Amon brought her along this time? She had been anything but useful; and whatever information Amon had gathered from the church, he had gotten himself. But Amon always kept his cards held close to his chest, never revealing anything about himself, or his motives. Would he ever trust her?  
  
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The guard at the gate of Raven's Flat set his newspaper down on the desk, and let Robin in with a welcoming smile. She smiled brightly back at him, then continued into the elevator and up to the fifth floor. It had always struck Robin as odd that the STN-J had the entire apartment building to themselves, yet their actual office was confined to one room.  
  
Her musings came to a halt as the elevator did, opening its doors to reveal the brightly illuminated office. Michael was at his usual post, already hard at work digging up information. Karasuma scanned over the files on paper, and Sakaki was lounging in his chair, occasionally peering over Michael's shoulder.  
  
"Ah, little Robin," Chief Kosaka greeted from his desk. "Decided to join us, have you? Well, at least you're here before Doujima. . ." he said, a halfhearted way of reprimanding her.  
  
"Everyone in Japan could get here before Doujima," Sakaki commented. Karasuma turned and gave her partner a wry smile, but said nothing, returning her attention to the stack of papers before her. As if summoned by the sound of her name, Doujima drifted into the room, holding her purse in front of her. She looked tired, and already bored.  
  
"Miss Doujima!" Kosaka yelled, pushing back his chair and getting to his feet. "This is the third time this week you've come in late, and I for one-"  
  
"So, Robin," Doujima chimed breezily, ignoring the Chief. "I heard you and Amon were doing a little late-night investigating."  
  
Robin felt her cheeks redden and she glanced away abashedly. Just what was Doujima implying? And how did she know about it in the first place?  
  
"You went on a hunt with Amon?" Sakaki asked, eyeing Robin curiously. "No fair, how come no one ever calls me in on these things. . ."  
  
Their conversation ground to a halt as Amon walked into the room.  
  
"Michael, do you have the information I asked you to look up?"  
  
"Yes, Mister Amon," Michael replied cheerfully, his chest puffing out a little in pride.  
  
"Good. Everyone, into the briefing room. We have a new case." He walked past Robin, without once glancing at her or acknowledging her presence. Doujima winked as she followed him into the dim briefing room, and Robin's face flushed as she fell in behind the young woman.  
  
Once everyone was seated, Michael switched on the main computer. The strangely colored lights overhead lit up, kicking the other monitors into gear. He brought up the data on their current case, and Robin's stomach clenched slightly as a picture of the church she and Amon had visited filled the screen.  
  
"There was a murder early this morning which showed strong evidence of witchcraft." To Robin's surprise, it was Amon who spoke, not Michael. "The victim has been identified as Alexander Cortez, a twenty-eight year old man from Spain who entered Japan two years ago."  
  
"Wait, Cortez?" Doujima asked, her interest suddenly piqued. "He was in the news a few months ago. Isn't he. . .?"  
  
"Yes," Amon confirmed. "He was in the news because of his supposed ties to the yakuza. It was reported that he was from a family of Spanish arms traders, and was trying to establish ties here in Japan. He's the primary suspect in a series of disappearances, but police don't have enough evidence to convict him of anything."  
  
"Now he's dead. . ." Karasuma said quietly.  
  
"Wasn't there a rumor awhile back that he had accomplices?" Sakaki inquired.  
  
"Yeah, I remember that!" Doujima agreed. "Michael, couldn't you check to see if anyone else from Spain entered Japan two years ago?"  
  
"Sure, piece of cake," Michael said smugly, his fingers flying over the keyboard.  
  
Amon got to his feet, heading for the door. "Karasuma, come with me. I need you to check out the church." Karasuma nodded and followed their leader out the door, Robin watching them forlornly. She had really blown it this time. She had ruined whatever chance she had at being allowed to investigate with Amon. Now he was going to continue to leave her behind at headquarters.  
  
"Hey," Doujima said gently, placing a hand on Robin's shoulder. "Wanna go get some lunch? We can go down to Harry's." She flashed Robin a comforting smile. Robin smiled back, and nodded. As they stepped into the elevator, Robin wondered briefly if they were allowed to leave, and how many unscheduled lunch breaks were already written on Doujima's record. 


	4. Chapter IV

--Book of Shadows: Sanctuary--  
  
Chapter IV  
  
"The evil will of the Devil is the cause of evil will man, especially in witches." –Malleus Maleficarum  
  
Amon and Karasuma slowly approached the abandoned church, stepping over the police tape that now lay crumpled on the dirty ground. As Karasuma walked just ahead of him, Amon paused to glance up at the leaden gray sky, now covered in clouds.  
  
"Amon?" He looked down to see the young woman eyeing him curiously. He nodded slightly, silently telling her there was nothing wrong, then quickly stepped past her and into the church. Karasuma followed him with her eyes, then shrugged Amon's behavior off and stepped into the crumbling building.  
  
The first thing to strike her was the overwhelming scent of blood. The crime scene had been cleared and hastily cleaned, but the acrid smell still lingered. The air itself felt heavy, as if weighted down by the dreadful things that had happened within these walls. She almost didn't need her power to sense the heady emotions swirling around her.  
  
But she crouched down near the floor nevertheless, touching one gloved hand to the cold floor. Immediately, shock waves of feelings and sensations rippled through her, assaulting her senses with anguished screams and fervent prayers. She heard the sharp, echoing sound of running footsteps, which stumbled to a halt. Within her mind's eye, she saw the victim, Alexander Cortez, approach the altar, gazing reverently at the stained-glass rendering of the Virgin Mother and her child. Her vision became awash in blood as he suddenly began to thrash around violently, crying out in pain.  
  
"Well?" Amon intoned expectantly, releasing Karasuma from the gruesome, enthralling picture. She fell back onto the stone floor with a small gasp, holding one hand to her burning forehead. Amon crouched down beside her, his brow furrowed in concern.  
  
"What happened, what did you see?" He asked. Karasuma took a few deep, calming breaths as she pushed the memories from her mind, allowing Amon to help her to her feet.  
  
"An overwhelming, inescapable fear, followed by excruciating pain. He was running from something, being attacked by something, but I couldn't see what." She said quietly, still a bit breathless.  
  
"You couldn't see it?" Amon repeated, puzzled by her words.  
  
"It was. . .an invisible enemy."  
  
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Robin smiled softly at Master as he carefully set down a tray of coffee and sandwiches, then watched as Doujima eagerly began sipping the hot drink.  
  
"So," Doujima chirped after she had swallowed. "You gonna tell me what you and Amon were doing, investigating a crime scene at four in the morning?"  
  
"We weren't doing anything," Robin said, blushing. Her voice was quiet, but her eyes sparkled with an inner fire. "We were just looking at the scene." Doujima shrugged her shoulders indifferently at this answer, and went back to drinking her coffee. The two sat in silence this way for a moment, each eying the other over the rim of their cups, until finally, Doujima set hers down.  
  
"Well, he's out looking at it again right now." The woman said lightly. "With Karasuma." She added pointedly.  
  
"So?"  
  
"So, how does that make you feel?" Robin was stunned into another lapse of silence at Doujima's frank question. She didn't know what made her feel the need to play psychiatrist all of a sudden, but it left Robin a little lost. Underneath the table, her hands began to fidget nervously with her napkin.  
  
"They're just doing their job," she intoned firmly, perhaps trying to convince herself of that more than anything. "How should I feel?"  
  
"Oh, nevermind. . ." Doujima sighed, giving it up as a lost cause.  
  
"Doujima. . .how did you know Amon and I had gone out early to investigate?" Robin asked after another moment of awkward silence. Doujima seemed taken aback by the question. Robin guessed the woman hadn't been expecting the interrogation to turn on her.  
  
"That's not really important, is it?" She laughed casually, pushing back her chair and placing some money on the table. "C'mon, we should get back." Robin kept her eye on Doujima, her curiosity stirred, then brushed it off and followed her out the door, bowing slightly to Master as she left. 


	5. Chapter V

--Book of Shadows: Sanctuary-  
  
"For not enlightenment but darkness is given to the understanding for the performance of evil works; and such is the function not of good, but of evil spirits."  
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Chapter V

Amon leaned against the wall across from Zaizen's desk, his face fixed into its usual stoic mask. Zaizen folded his hands on top of the desk and stared back at the Hunter.  
  
"You mean she just . . . ran out?" He asked incredulously.  
  
"She is just a child." Amon replied calmly.  
  
"That isn't important. It is well-known that if a witch is put under a high amount of stress, their powers become harder to control. Don't let her get involved in such things. It could have . . . unhealthy consequences." Zaizen instructed sternly. Amon did not reply, staring past the Director and out the large window behind him.  
  
"In fact, it's probably best you don't allow her to have too much information on anything. She can't be trusted yet."  
  
"Robin's job is to hunt witches. Keeping her out of things isn't going to help her, or us."  
  
"She is also a Craft-user from Solomon Headquarters. Continue to keep a close eye on her."  
  
"Yes sir," Amon replied, a bit reluctantly. He turned, his back rigid, and left Zaizen's office, a grimace of disdain spreading across his face. Robin had been sent as a replacement, so why did he have to hold back instead of using her to her full advantage? And Zaizen had even gone so far as to call Robin a witch. Amon had admitted to himself that he sometimes didn't trust Robin's power, but she had never even once displayed any sign of misusing her Craft. She was certainly no witch. He suspected Zaizen's distrust went further back than what the man had led on, but he was the Director of the Solomon Japan branch, and so Amon could not question his motives. He just wished he knew his intents. 

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Robin handed Michael a plastic bag filled with snacks from the nearby convenience store, and he accepted it gratefully, peering inside and giving her a thumbs up. He typed a few more commands into his computer, then leaned back in his chair and began cramming cheese puffs into his mouth by the handful.  
  
"Those can't be good for you, you know," Karasuma remarked as she entered the office with Sakaki. Michael turned and smiled, shrugging his shoulders before popping another one into his mouth. Sakaki made a grab for the bag, but Michael held it out of reach. Dejected, Sakaki slumped into a chair, pouting and muttering under his breath. Doujima rolled her eyes at him as she approached.

They all turned as Amon stalked into the room, an angry aura swirling around him so thick it was almost visible. Doujima took an involuntary step back as he directed them all to enter the briefing room. One by one they filed past, hanging their heads like prisoners heading to their death sentence. Or witches being burned at the stake, Robin thought grimly. She didn't know what had Amon so vexed, but she would have preferred not to find out. Anything that had him visibly displeased couldn't bode well for the rest of them.

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"It turns out, there were two other people from Spain who entered Japan two years ago." Michael intoned as he pulled up the information. "Luis Menendez, age thirty-one, and Miguel Rodriguez, twenty-five. What's more, they arrived on the same day, and on the same flight as Cortez."  
  
"That can't be just a coincidence," Karasuma noted. Michael nodded in agreement as he opened files on the three men, lining up their pictures on the monitor.  
  
"It isn't," he replied, "they were all suspects for an infiltrated arms deal in Spain a few months before they came here, and Cortez and Rodriguez are cousins."  
  
"Cousins?" Doujima echoed in surprise.  
  
"So, where are the other two guys?" Sakaki inquired thoughtfully. "Maybe they know something about what happened to this Cortez guy."  
  
"Perhaps," Amon's deep voice intoned from the corner. "Michael, do you know their current whereabouts?"  
  
"I'm digging up that little tidbit right now," the hacker replied with a smirk. In a few seconds, another window of information popped up.  
  
"Alright. Karasuma and Sakaki, you check out Menendez. Robin, come with me. Robin!"  
  
Robin's eyes flew open as she jerked her head up, still in an exhausted daze. Was she really so tired that she'd fallen asleep at work? It seemed to be happening a lot lately.  
  
"Robin, this is the second time in a week you've dozed off," Amon scolded, glaring down at her from the hazy shadows of the room. "We have a job to do, the least you can do is keep your eyes open."  
  
"I. . .I'm sorry, Amon," Robin said quietly, hanging her head apologetically. He turned and walked out of the room without another word. This case was getting to Robin in more ways than one, and now she had another black mark on her name in Amon's eyes. She followed quietly a few steps behind him, trying to hide her humiliation.

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A/n: A long time between updates, I know! School had been pretty hectic, so you'll just have to forgive me. Plus this story is getting more complicated than I'd originally planned, so it's taking longer to sort out. But I'll try to have more up soon, and hopefully, the next chapter will be a bit longer.


	6. Chapter VI

--Book of Shadows: Sanctuary--  
  
Chapter VI  
  
"Invocation of, and sacrifice to demons is especially evil."- the Book of Medieval Witchcraft  
  
Amon pulled his sleek black Audi up to the curb, then stared out the widow at the apartment complex across the street. It was just outside the Walled City; not quite a part of the slums, but run down enough that it almost could be. Opening his laptop, he pulled up the file on Miguel Rodriguez. A photograph of him showed a tall, smiling young man, dressed in an expensive, well-cut suit, his jet-black hair slicked back, with a few rebellious strands hanging over his tanned forehead. Why would such a man be living in one of the shadiest, poorest areas of Tokyo?  
  
Amon looked over to see Robin peering at the computer screen, her brows furrowed in thought. Amon quickly snapped the laptop closed, startling the young woman. She eyed him a bit reproachfully, then followed him as he stepped out of the car. Zaizen had instructed him not to let Robin get too involved, and he had no choice but to follow those orders. For now, anyway.  
  
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Karasuma glanced over at her partner, who was still staring sulkily out of the window, then turned off the car's engine and got out. Sakaki muttered a few unintelligible phrases under his breath before following suit. Karasuma smiled bemusedly at his antics, then walked briskly up to the door of the small, one-story house.  
  
"I still don't see why I couldn't have taken my motorcycle," Sakaki grumbled as he joined her. Karasuma rolled her eyes at him, then turned and knocked on the door, noticing the cracked, peeling red paint.  
  
"Look, Haruto, I've already explained it to you," she said crisply, turning back to face the petulant younger man. "It's a waste of gas--which, I'll remind you, the STN-J is nice enough to pay for--and it would attract unnecessary attention."  
  
"I know, I know," Sakaki replied, scuffing the dirty porch with the toe of his sneaker. "But I like driving myself."  
  
Boys, Karasuma thought, sighing inwardly. She quickly plastered a bright smile on her face as the door to the house finally cracked open.  
  
"Can I help you?" A woman with a distinct Spanish accent said cautiously, peering at the two Hunters from behind the door. Karasuma and Sakaki exchanged a glance. Michael's information hadn't mentioned anything about a woman.  
  
"Er-yes," Karasuma recovered, holding out a hand, which the woman did not accept. Karasuma withdrew it, and continued. "I'm with the Channel Ten News, and me and my partner here were wondering if we might speak with a Mister Menendez?" She smiled reassuringly, and handed the woman one of the false business cards Michael had made for her. This time, the woman reached out one slender, braceleted arm, and gingerly took it.  
  
"He . . . isn't here right now. What do you want to talk to him about?"  
  
"I'm doing an exclusive on immigrating to Japan, and I heard he moved here a few years ago," Karasuma replied, manufacturing the lie with a speed that surprised even herself. She glanced out of the corner of her eye, and suppressed a smile when she saw Sakaki eagerly clutching a pen and notepad, every inch the eager reporter. "But you seem to know him, did you move here as well? I could interview you instead."  
  
"Yes, I moved here with Luis two years ago. I'm his fiancé." The woman replied, seeming somewhat reluctant to give up this tidbit of information.  
  
"Well, if you wouldn't mind just answering a few quick questions Miss-?"  
  
"Perez."  
  
"Miss Perez?" Karasuma gave the woman a hopeful look, and her eyes shifted nervously from her to Sakaki.  
  
"I'm sorry, I really don't have time." She replied hurriedly, moving to shut the door. Karasuma stepped forward to stop her, placing a hand on the doorframe. The woman's eyes widened in a mixture of shock, and fear.  
  
"It really won't take long, and it would be a big help to me," she pleaded.  
  
"No, I'm sorry. I have errands to run. If you'll excuse me." She handed the business card back to Karasuma, a clear indication that she did not want them to return, then hastily shut the door, a sound which was soon followed by the click of a lock.  
  
"Well, so much for that," Sakaki muttered. "She wasn't much help at all."  
  
Karasuma held up the business card, a bit wrinkled and moist from the woman's sweat-soaked hands. A faint smile crossed her lips as she felt the traces of emotions lurking on the paper's surface. "Oh, it wasn't a total waste."  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
- - -  
  
Amon and Robin climbed up the narrow staircase that led to the fifth floor, where Miguel Rodriguez's apartment was located. Robin lifted her skirts to avoid the trash and other refuse that cluttered the stairs. It never ceased to astound her how people could live like this. But, she reflected, as the round, dirt-streaked face of a child peered out at her from a doorway, not everyone had a choice.  
  
Amon had stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway, and was looking at her expectantly. She gave the little boy a slight smile, then hurried to meet her partner. Once she was at his side, he turned and rapped loudly on the door.  
  
To Robin's surprise, it opened almost immediately. Without warning, Amon grabbed her around the waist and pulled her backwards, slamming both of them roughly onto the cluttered ground. She let out a groan, her hands stinging through her gloves from sliding along the carpet. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Amon sitting with his back to her, shielding her with his body, his Orbo gun trained on the man in the doorway, who had a rifle pointed at the two of them.  
  
"I had a feeling you'd be by," Miguel Rodriguez snarled through a thick accent. Robin slowly rolled onto her back and sat up behind Amon, rubbing her elbows and knees, which also stung form the impact. Noticing that the man's attention was focused on Amon, who had the gun, she carefully slipped a hand into her pocket, grabbing her spectacles.  
  
"I would not move if I were you, senorita. Unless you would like a rather large hole right between your eyes." Rodriguez warned, waving the rifle at her menacingly. Robin froze, sweat beading on her forehead as she slowly removed her hand form her pocket. She could try to hit him with her fire craft from here, but what if she missed? She could hit Amon, or worse, burn down the entire building, leaving all the occupants homeless.  
  
"Put the gun down," Amon said calmly. "We only want to talk to you."  
  
"Heh, like you talked to Cortez?" Rodriguez scoffed.  
  
"What?" Amon exclaimed.  
  
"I know you were paid to come here for me, just like someone paid to kill Cortez!" Rodriguez yelled, his voice growing more and more panicked. Robin was becoming more frightened as well. Even with her power, she couldn't stop him if he shot at Amon, and he wasn't a witch, so besides irritating him even further, the Orbo was useless.  
  
In a blur of movement, Amon braced one hand on the ground and kicked upward, knocking the gun out of Rodriguez's hands and sending it clattering to the floor several feet away. The man panicked and turned to scramble after the weapon, but Amon was on his feet in a flash. He leapt in front of the man with catlike grace, clubbing him over the head with the butt of his gun. Robin breathed a sigh of relief as he collapsed to the floor, unconscious. Getting to her feet, she dusted herself off, then gazed at Amon curiously as he began dragging the man back into the apartment.  
  
"What are you doing?" She inquired.  
  
"Taking him back inside," Amon replied, not even out of breath from all the sudden exertion. "We still have to question him."  
  
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A/n: Well, the horrible end-of-the-year term paper is pretty much over, which means I'll have more time to write. I'm really trying to get chapters out as soon as I can, but writer's block strikes unexpectedly and without mercy! I'm getting there, though, so please keep reading, don't give up on me! 


	7. Chapter VII

--Book of Shadows: Sanctuary--

"Shall I make spirits fetch me what I please,  
  
Resolve me of all ambiguities,

Perform what desperate enterprise I will?" –Faust

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Chapter VII

To Robin's surprise, it didn't take very long for Mr. Rodriguez to revive. Upon finding himself tied firmly to a chair, he began writhing around, hissing and spitting expletives like a mad cat. One long glance from Amon was all it took to silence him, however.  
  
"What do you want from me?" the man asked plaintively, hanging his head. "I didn't do anything wrong, I swear. . .it was all Cortez, please, don't kill me. . .I swear. . ."  
  
"What on Earth are you raving about?" Amon snapped, a little more irritably than he would have liked.  
  
"You killed Cortez, and now you will kill me!" Rodriguez shouted, his face red with a mixture of anger and fear.  
  
"We aren't here to kill you." Amon replied calmly. Rodriguez' eyes widened in shock as he looked from Amon to Robin. Upon seeing her, her emerald eyes gazing at him almost kindly, he seemed to calm, as if unable to suspect her capable of doing him harm. Inwardly, Robin sighed. He had no idea of the Craft that lurked behind her gentle eyes. . .  
  
"Then. . .why are you here?" He asked, sinking into the chair in a defeated posture.  
  
"We would like to ask you about Cortez," Robin chimed in before Amon could open her mouth. He shot his partner a stern glance, but allowed her to continue. "You see. . ." Robin began, pausing as she tried to formulate an excuse. The STN was a strictly undercover operation, one which no one- human, witch, or seed- was supposed to know about. But right now, Robin found herself unable to think of anything now that she had jumped headfirst into an explanation.  
  
"Oh, I see," Rodriguez echoed, the gleam of anger back in his eyes. "It's about what happened in Spain, isn't it. You a messenger for the boss? Well, you can tell him I'll go back over my own dead body!" He paused, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself, then added in a grim whisper, "That's the way it will end anyway,"  
  
"What do you mean?" Robin asked gently, not wanting to press him for information and incite his anger. "Why did you leave Spain? Why was Cortez killed? Why would someone want you dead?" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Amon glancing at her furtively, the look on his face clearly telling her to halt her barrage of questioning.  
  
"What? You don't know?" Rodriguez said with mild surprise. Then, a wry smile spread across his face. "Heh, typical. Everyone so secretive these days. People going out for hits, don't even know why, si?" He shifted his glance to Amon, who nodded mysteriously, then back to Robin, looking her up and down as if assessing her. "This one, she's too young to be a killer," he remarked, sighing remorsefully. "But that shows you how things are over there."  
  
"In Spain." Amon said, his voice betraying no emotion. Rodriguez nodded nevertheless.  
  
"Si."  
  
"Is that why you left?" Amon asked, taking up the interrogation himself.  
  
"No. Cortez and I left because of something we had done." He paused, as if dragging up unwelcome memories from the depths of his mind. Robin noted that he had made no mention of the third man, Menendez. She also noted that Amon made no move to reveal they already knew of him.  
  
"It was two years ago. We had set up an important deal with an Italian crime ring, for arms." He looked at Amon, as if for a pardon of the fact that they had been trading weapons illegally. Amon nodded for him to continue. "Cortez and I"-once again he omitted Menendez, Robin realized- "had scheduled to meet them at a dock, after midnight. We had everything planned perfectly-or so he said. We would meet our contact, show him some goods, then he would make an offer. But it went bad." Rodriguez was now staring past the two Hunters, his eyes looking back in time as he relived it in his mind.  
  
"When we got there, the contact was waiting to meet us. But so was someone else. A young man, a boy, really. Said it was his "apprentice," you know? I thought nothing of it at the time. Cortez and the man started talking, striking a deal. And then. . .we were busted."  
  
"Busted?" Robin interrupted, the words coming out of her mouth before she could stop herself. It seemed to bring Rodriguez back to reality, for he now turned to regard her thoughtfully. There was a sadness in his eyes that had not been there before.  
  
"Si. By the Federales. Somehow, they had gotten word of our little meeting. Swarms of them descended on us, from boats at the dock, they leapt up, their guns trained on us. They came down from the sky in masses, surrounding us. There was nothing we could do. The boy. . .he panicked. Dropped the suitcase of money and tried to run. Such fear in his eyes. . .like I have never seen before. . .he was struck down immediately. Cortez used the opportunity to grab me and run, and somehow we made it out. But I still remember that old man, cradling the boy in his arms. . .crying, not even noticing the guns pointed at him. . .he had no care for himself anymore. . ."  
  
Robin turned away, tears springing unbidden into her eyes. Rodriguez's voice trailed off, and he cleared his throat, sadness welling up inside him as well. Only Amon maintained his aura of distance and calm.  
  
"It was not until later, we found out the boy had been the man's only son. The Italians refused to trade with us, saying we had tipped off the police ourselves. How else could we have escaped, they accused? And our boss was not pleased, either. We were trapped on both sides. If the man did not come for us in revenge, our own men would. So, we fled. We came here."  
  
Rodriguez stopped, and it was clear he would divulge no more information than he already had. Amon regarded him quietly for a moment, then turned toward the door.  
  
"Let's go," he said firmly to Robin, who turned to look at him, then back at the man, who was still tied to the chair.  
  
"Aren't we going to let him go?" She asked, quickening her steps to follow Amon out the door nevertheless.  
  
"If he really wants to get out of there, he'll find a way to do it himself," her partner replied coolly, staring straight ahead as they exited the building.


	8. Chapter VIII

A/n: Konnichiwa, minna-san! A thousand apologies for the long wait, but I was finally able to break my writer's block at about 3 a.m. this morning. I'll be starting my freshman year of college next week, so things are a bit hectic, but hopefully once they settle down I can churn out an ending!

Book of Shadows: Sanctuary

"All magic is evil, because it relies upon evil spirits and sets itself against God by trying to compel the powers of the Universe"

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Chapter VIII

Miguel Rodriguez struggled within his bonds, hot tears welling in his eyes as he cursed the young woman and her tall, ominous companion who had left him here. He felt vulnerable, something he had always despised, but he could see no way to free himself.

A knock on the unlatched door made him jump, and cold sweat broke out on his forehead as he saw who had entered. The figure was draped in shadow, the face still not clearly visible, but Miguel Rodriguez did not need to see the man's features to know who it was.

"Please..." he whispered, closing his eyes, his hands straining to reach the silver cross around his neck, "don't hurt me...please...forgive me!" The man only chuckled as he walked into the room, setting a small, black lacquered box on the table. Miguel stared at the object, his eyes widening in fear of whatever lay inside.

"Tsk tsk, is that any way to behave toward your old business acquaintance?" The man stepped behind the chair, then bent over and began carefully untying the ropes.

"What...what are you doing?" Miguel asked nervously, quickly getting to his feet once he was free. He backed away from the man as he stood straight, bumping into the table and shying away from that as well. A slow smile spread across the man's face.

"Well, it is only fair to give you a chance." He intoned calmly, moving over near the table, running a hand over the smooth lid of the box. Miguel began making his way to the door.

"A...a chance?" The box opened.

"To run."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Robin gave Michael a small smile as she refilled his coffee cup, and he flashed her a grin before stuffing another donut into his mouth. It was looking to be a long night—Robin had been put on watch again, assigned the task of monitoring the STN database in case any new witches surfaced—so far nothing interesting had happened. She was beginning to suspect that this watch duty was nothing more than an excuse for someone to keep Michael company, which she didn't mind doing. But in the few months since she'd arrived at the Japan branch, she had been given this task more times than any of the other Hunters.

A light suddenly began to blink on and off on Michael's monitor, and he hastily swallowed his donut before opening the message window.

"What is it?" Robin asked softly, leaning over to peer at the screen. Michael hid his look of irritation—he hated people looking over his shoulder—and closed the window.

"There's been another murder," he said gravely, already dialing the number that would connect him to Amon's communicator. "At the old church."

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By the time Robin managed to get to the church on her Vespa, Amon, Karasuma, and Sakaki were already waiting. Amon barely acknowledged her presence, glancing at her before continuing his conversation with Michael over the phone.

"Yes, it seems to be the same as before. Run a check on this church, then send me any information you find." Slipping the communicator back into his pocket, he turned to address the other Hunters. Robin sensed he was extremely irritated, judging by the tightness of his stony jaw, and the way he clenched his fists.

"The victim is Miguel Rodriguez," he said in a clipped, cold tone, and Robin stifled a gasp—the man they had just interrogated...was dead? She thought back to the way Amon had left him, tied up like a lamb for slaughter. Which is what he had now become. Perhaps that explained Amon's mood. He had as good as helped the witch kill again. She wondered whether he had made that realization himself.

"It seems the witch leads his victims here to be killed," Amon continued. "Therefore, we will be maintaining a twenty-four hour surveillance on the area."

"Cool, a stake out!" Haruto said enthusiastically. A harsh glare from Karasuma wiped the smile off his face. Amon continued as if the interruption hadn't occurred, delegating tasks in a cold, efficient manner.

"Karasuma, I want you to maintain a watch on the right side of the building. Sakaki, you'll take the left side, I'll take the back. Robin, you take the entrance."

Robin's green eyes widened in shock. The entrance? Surely he didn't trust her abilities enough to give her such a key position? What was Amon thinking?

"If the witch appears, we wait until he goes inside. Then Robin will move in, and block the entrance with her Craft," Amon explained, as if reading her thoughts. "Stay in contact with me at all times. If something occurs, call for backup before going inside. _Do not attempt to go in alone_. This witch has shown how violent they can be, we can't afford any bravado." Amon favored Sakaki with a meaningful look that indicated this instruction was primarily for his sake.

"Take your positions. There's one more potential victim left, and if we're lucky, the witch will lead him here."


	9. Chapter IX

Book Of Shadows II: Sanctuary

Chapter IX

"Witchcraft is any human activity attributed to the help of evil spirits."

--Malleus Maleficarum

Luis Menendez dropped his last bottle of beer onto the pavement, listening as it feel with an empty tinkle of glass. Rosie was probably worried about him—he hadn't been home in several days—but to return there was certain death, for both of them. He couldn't get her involved in this mess, whatever it was.

_We were so sure, _he thought bitterly, wiping his mouth with the back of a grimy sleeve. _We thought we could escape the past, but it is haunting us. It will never let us go…_

Alexander was dead, he knew that much, and he hadn't heard from Miguel in two weeks. Their last conversation had been brief, the other man's voice filled with anxiety as he warned Luis that they had been found, and that Cortez was already dead.

What made things worse was that he had no idea who was after them. It could be anyone—the Italians, their former boss in Spain—there were many who would be more than happy to see he and his friends conveniently put "out of commission."

Up ahead, he noticed a man walking toward him down the dimly lit street, his face hidden by a large, black umbrella. But it wasn't raining. Luis looked up at the sky, a thin strip of inky blackness peeking from between the dilapidated rooftops. The light pollution made it impossible to see any stars, but it didn't even look cloudy…

When he lowered his gaze, the man was much closer. Luis' eyes widened in surprise—and fear—as the umbrella was lowered, revealing a face he though he had blocked from his memory for two long years.

"Buon notte," The man said, a thin smile on his lips that did not reach his dark eyes. Luis shoved past him and began to run, the man's voice shouting after him as he went.

"You're going the wrong way, my friend! You will find no sanctuary down there!"

But Luis did find a hiding place, after all. Amidst the apartments was hidden a small, decaying church, its hallowed ground strewn with litter and other refuse. It was such an easy thing to miss, hidden in the shadows of the high-rises, that he was sure the man would never think to look for him inside.

* * *

Robin was jolted from her bored stupor by the sound of running footsteps, heading in her direction. She looked around, peering into the dark, until she spied a man running frantically toward the church, brushing by her without seeming to notice she was there.

"Amon, there's someone here," she said, speaking into the headset she had been given.

"Is it the witch?" his curt voice snapped into her earpiece.

"I'm not sure, I didn't see." She thought she detected an irritated grumble as she slowly entered the ramshackle door of the church. A man standing near the altar turned and looked at her with wild eyes, his clothes covered in grime and his hair matted.

"Stay away from me! Who are you?" He asked, his voice high and frantic. Robin did her best to project a sense of calm and harmlessness.

"I won't hurt you," she replied softly, taking a small step forward. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought him here, signorina." A voice answered from behind her. Robin whirled around, the other man forgotten as she took an involuntary step away from the one standing in the doorway.

"So you're the witch," she replied, her voice surprisingly calm. She vaguely heard Amon shouting in her ear, wanting to know what was happening, but she knew that if she replied, the man would know she was not alone. The man registered surprise at being called a witch, but he did not refute her accusation.

"I suppose you could say that," he replied coolly, taking another step forward. Robin noticed he was holding an umbrella in one hand, and a small, lacquered box in the other. He was older, and she could tell automatically that he was of Italian origin. Hadn't Miguel Rodriguez mentioned their infiltrated deal had been with the Italians?

"You are a Hunter, I can tell," the man said, and now it was Robin's turn to be surprised. She let him walk around her, pressing herself back against one of the broken pews to get away from him, and waiting until his back was turned to reach into her pocket and pull out her glasses. "So, naturally, you call me a witch. But we are really not so different."

Did he also know she was a Craft-user, Robin wondered? And why hadn't the others arrived yet? Perhaps they were waiting for her to do something.

"You Hunt witches because you are seeking to restore order to the world. Witches are not only "evil," we defy logical human reasoning—we do not exist, outside of myths and fairytales, or so most people think—therefore our very presence causes chaos. You Hunt us because it is just, and right, because not only we have done something wrong, our very existence is wrong. But the men I have killed also do not deserve to live. My only son was killed, because of him, and they run like fools and get away! I watched my son die in my arms, and spent the next two years mourning him in jail. What I do is right, and just."

"No," Robin replied, making the man pause as he walked toward the altar. "What you are doing, is nothing more than revenge." The man turned, sneering at her disdainfully as he set down his box and umbrella.

"These men are criminals, and yet they are allowed to roam free. Just as you feel you must deal out justice to us witches, so must I deliver justice to them, since no one else will."

"You're wrong," Robin asserted firmly. "Witches exist, but they may not know what they are. They may live normal, everyday lives, until they are awakened to their power. It is only then, when they use that power for their own ends, defying the laws of man and God, that they must be Hunted. It is our job to see they are dealt with, it is not yours to judge and execute these men."

"I will show you a secret, girl, something you Hunters refuse to acknowledge about us witches," the man said, picking up his box. He stroked a finger along its shiny black surface, reverently, almost lovingly. Behind him, the frightened, bedraggled man was crouching in the corner, underneath the elaborately carved wooden crucifix.

"It is said that King Solomon had the power to control demons, to subdue them and have them do his bidding."

"Those demons were witches, that is why witches must be Hunted."

"No, child. For King Solomon was not the only one who had this power. Witches were gifted with it as well." Robin's verdant green eyes widened at his words. The Church and SOLOMON said witches and demons were one and the same, how could this man's words be true?

"Long before your Church came along with is doctrines, witches were at the height of their power. Our Goddess, Pandora, gifted us with this box, which contained spirits, spirits we could harness and control. My clan has kept this box, hiding it through the centuries of burning and persecution. And now I am using it to exact justice upon those who have done wrong!" Without warning he lifted the lid to the box, emitting a high-pitched buzzing noise.

Robin quickly covered her ears, crouching down as the remaining windows of the church shattered, the beautiful stained-glass rendering of the Virgin Mary falling to pieces on the floor. The other man screamed and dove under the altar, waving his arms as if trying to fend off some unseen attacker. The man made as if he was tipping his hat toward her, and strode towards the door, but Robin immediately conjured a wall of fire across the entrance. He backed away, turning to stare at her in shock and indignation.

"All your righteous talk of witches, and you have the Craft yourself! Such hypocrisy won't be tolerated!" The man reached for his box, which he had dropped on the floor in his surprise, but before he could reach it someone leapt through the nearest window, tucking into a roll as they hit the floor, then rising from behind a pew to fire a shot at the man.

"Amon!" Robin cried, receiving a swift glance from the Hunter's stormy eyes as they stared over the barrel of his gun.

"Robin, burn the box!" he shouted, and she swiftly complied. The man let out a harsh, guttural cry as he watched his precious artifact go up in flames, and Robin noticed that the man under the altar had stopped screaming.

The Italian leapt up, his calm face now a mask of rage as he let out a fierce snarl and leapt toward Robin. She backed away quickly, but he latched onto her skirts with one claw-like hand. Suddenly he jerked back as one, two, three Orbo bullets pierced into him. Robin couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as he fell to the floor.

* * *

The next morning, the Hunters were once again gathered in the briefing room, each sitting in front of a monitor as Michael recited information.

"The witch we captured was identified by SOLOMON Headquarters in Italy as Vincenzo Dioniso. Not only was he a member of the elusive Pandora clan, an ancient group of witches SOLOMON has been Hunting for centuries, but he was also a member of the Italian mafia. His son was killed in a busted weapons deal with a Spanish crime ring two years ago."

"The same one that involved Cortez!" Doujima chimed in brightly.

"The same one," Michael confirmed. "Apparently he escaped SOLOMON's notice while in jail, and upon his release, came to Japan to seek revenge."

"And the third victim?" Amon interrupted inquiringly.

"Luis Menendez, the third accomplice. He had some major lacerations and a significant amount of blood loss, but they think he'll pull through."

Robin was no longer listening, thinking instead of what Vincenzo Dionisio had revealed to her. Was he right about the witches controlling spirits? The box had been evidence in his favor, but that was nothing more than a pile of ashes now. As was some of her confidence in the beliefs she had been raised with.

* * *

"How long was she alone with Dionisio?"

"About fifteen minutes."

"Pandora is an old clan, with a lot of information. We have no way of knowing what he might have said to her. Continue to monitor the girl closely."

"Yes sir."


End file.
